


Heroics

by TaeStarr



Series: In an Instant [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Future, Gen, Grave Injury, One Shot, sorry no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 12:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16892391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaeStarr/pseuds/TaeStarr
Summary: Louie never considered himself one for heroics, but when his brothers are captured on their latest adventure, he steps up to the plate. Unfortunately, all it takes is one mistake for everything to go very wrong.





	Heroics

_Oh boy, Louie, you’ve really outdone yourself this time._

That thought played on loop in Louie’s mind as he laid on his back. All he could hear was ringing, and his vision was saturated with blurry light. He wanted to lift his head and look down at his body, but he could not. The only parts of Louie’s body that seemed to still respond to his brain’s instructions were his arms.

Louie lifted his hand felt around on his stomach. A wave of immeasurable pain shot up his body, and his vision went completely white for a few seconds. When some semblance of vision returned, Louie raised his hand to his face and saw that it was completely drenched in blood. A drop of blood fell from his hand onto his cheek and Louie winced to prevent it from getting into his eye. He let his arm splay out to his side, letting out a long, defeated exhale.

_Absolutely fantastic. Great stuff, Louie. You’ve always wanted a fucking hole in your stomach._

Louie had slipped away unnoticed when the temple guards found the three of them. Huey and Dewey were led away in bindings, leaving Louie with the great responsibility of being the hero on this particular adventure. He’d never thought that “being the hero” was something that he was cut out for. For a little while there, he thought he might be proving himself wrong.

He had managed to find where his brothers were being held captive. He had managed steal a guard’s keyring undetected. He had even managed to interrupt the antagonist-du-jour (some sort of cursed living statue) as he delivered an evil monologue to his brothers – that, in particular, would have made Uncle Scrooge proud.

Ever since the triplets had started charting their own adventures without Scrooge earlier this year when they turned 20, Huey and Dewey always competed to see who could impress Scrooge more with their valiant actions (and storytelling ability) upon their return. Louie couldn’t really compete with his brothers, so on adventures he stayed focused firstly on the treasure, and secondly on not dying. This time, he got the chance to be the courageous and valorous one. It all seemed to be going so well. He was actually having a lot of fun.

Now he wished that he had stayed focused on not dying. At least he got the cell keys to Huey. His brothers could take everything from there.

He’d gotten cocky. He had been mocking the statue, dodging the swings of its staff and making funny faces at it. He didn’t even see the energy gathering at the tip of the staff until it was too late to dodge the beam it fired at him. The impact threw him at least twenty feet across the stone floor. Strangely enough, Louie didn’t feel a lot of pain; maybe the pain was so great that his brain had no capacity to process it.

Louie was sure that his brothers were extremely worried. They were probably screaming his name at that very moment. He couldn’t hear them. They were probably preoccupied with an epic battle with the statue. He couldn’t help them. Huey and Dewey didn’t need his help, though. They were always so much better at this adventuring stuff. And Louie was sure that they’d make the statue-thing pay for hurting him; a pyrrhic victory, but a victory nonetheless in Louie’s opinion.

Suddenly, Louie felt himself being lifted slightly. Huey was there, cradling him, speaking rapidly and frantically, though all Louie heard was a muffled rumble. Louie’s eyes eventually adjusted to reveal Dewey’s figure as well. Dewey had both of his hands over the top of his head, running his fingers anxiously through his hairfeathers. He was crying.

From his slightly elevated position, Louie finally got a chance to see his injury. The bottom half of his aqua-green button-down designer shirt was burned away. The edges of what remained of his shirt were charred and frayed. Below that, his abdomen was a mess of wet redness and disheveled feathers pointing every which way. Blood continued to bubble up out of the wound. Louie moved his eyes around, inspecting the ground around him. The bulk of the blood – _his_ blood – had pooled around his body, expanding three or four feet in each direction. From there, the blood was channeled in the grouting of the stone floor, snaking further away than Louie could see with his blurred vision.

Though he couldn’t make out what Huey was saying, Louie could hear enough to recognize the tone and cadence Huey was using. Huey was telling him that everything was going to be alright and listing the itinerary of what would happen next: they’d get him out of the temple, they’d get him to a hospital, and he’d be treated and released to adventure another day. Louie knew that Huey was saying those things to comfort himself as much as he was saying them to comfort Louie.

Louie felt more guilt than fear. He was putting his brothers through a lot of stress that they didn’t deserve. He tried to apologize, but found that he still couldn’t speak. In lieu of that, he raised his hand to Huey’s face and placed it on his cheek. Huey froze, staring Louie in the eyes. Louie could see the tears resting on Huey’s lower eyelids. Removing his hand from Huey’s cheek, Louie found that he had left quite an impressive bloodstain on his brother’s cheek.

Louie gave a small chuckle, more of a snort than an actual laugh. He let his arm fall limply to the ground and tilted his head to the side. He felt cold and extremely tired. A bright void opened in his vision. It looked warm and welcoming. Louie could feel Huey, who was still cradling him, begin to lightly shake him. He could still hear the rumble of his brothers’ voices, finally managing to make out a few of the words.

“Don’t… Lou-… awake…”

“We’re… out of here… please… _stay with us!_ ”

 “Goi-… fine… _Louie!_... -at me!”

Louie felt his guilt compounded. He was about to do the worst thing he’d ever done to his brothers. He was about to hurt them worse than he’d ever hurt them before. He struggled to bring his head up, reaching one hand out to Huey and the other to Dewey. They each took a hand into theirs.

“I-I’m… sor…ry,” he breathed, weak and strained. The bright void began to consume him. Louie suddenly became aware of just how _scared_ he actually was.

Then everything went black.

**Author's Note:**

> that'll get you in the christmas spirit, huh?
> 
> For a month or two I've been toying with the idea of getting back into creative writing, something I loved in middle school/early high school like ten years ago. I didn't expect something like this to be my first product after all that time, but hey, I gotta take advantage of inspiration when it comes.


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